


Beckets Bite Back

by Gothams_Only_Wolf



Series: La Revanche [1]
Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Athene Noctua OCs are Mean, Gen, Raleigh's Mad, Revenge, Stickfighting, which is an honor specifically for Logan Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-17
Updated: 2014-11-18
Packaged: 2018-02-25 16:46:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2629010
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothams_Only_Wolf/pseuds/Gothams_Only_Wolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Someone picks a fight with Yancy and Raleigh retaliates with force. </p><p>Related to pickleplum's Monster fic!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Mess With One, You Get the Whole Pack

**Author's Note:**

  * For [pickleplum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/pickleplum/gifts).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I strongly recommend reading pickleplum's Monster fic first. Otherwise this isn't gonna make any sense. 
> 
> Enjoy~

* * *

Raleigh growls when he sees Yancy’s split lip.

Yancy tries for a light tone. “Hey, you should see that Aussie bastard. I broke his nose an’ then I punched it again. Wouldja believe the asshole’s one of _Vulcan Specter_ 's Rangers?” Yancy mumbles as Raleigh carefully wipes away the blood and tapes his lip. “The younger one. Logan.”

“I’m gonna kick his ass, Yan. Take him down in the Kwoon with la canne and make sure every breath he draws is fuckin’ painful for a fuckin’ **month**. If I end up in Med Bay, fine, but he’ll think twice about messin’ with _anyone_ close to me again,” Raleigh snarls in French as he rubs a salve on Yancy’s bruises and their link boils with Raleigh’s fury.

“Whoa, no! I’ve heard about these guys from Tendo. You hurt this one an’ the other one’ll hand you your ass," Yancy protests as Raleigh presses him into his bunk as he feels the ache from his bruises. “Kinda like us,” he adds with a wry smile.

“Bring it. They should know better than t’ harass a fellow Ranger,” Raleigh states coolly, pulling his temper in and attempting to calm down. “What he said was messed up, Yan.”

“Then report him. It’s bad enough I fought him out there in th’ snow,” Yancy points out reasonably.

“I’m sorry, Yan, but …” Raleigh grits his teeth. _He hurt you an’ I’m gonna level his ass at least once because of it. I’m sick of people making cracks at you because of me. I’m done with it!_ Raleigh finishes over the link, allowing his frustration to surface.

 **Alright, alright. If you see him before the day’s out, then sure. If not … Don't engage him,** Yancy concedes with ill-disguised relief.

_Fine an’ only because you asked me not to, okay?_

**Okay, kiddo.**

Raleigh walks to clear his head, his expression clearing his path of Icebox personnel. Stomping out to the Cold War bunker doesn’t help much so he turns around, heading for the Jaeger Bays and _Gipsy Danger_. Raleigh slips past the security cameras and curls up in the smallest space in her Conn-pod to relax.

“Mini Becket’s definitely upset. I wouldn’t wanna be the person who made him that way,” says one of Gipsy’s techs.

“Heard it was a _Vulcan Specter_ pilot who started it.” The quiet reply comes from the cable mechanic who likes to sit with Raleigh when he crochets.

“Well, he better watch it. Those Beckets are ferocious if you go after one of their own an’ the J-Hawk Becket will happily tie ‘em to the blades an’ make ‘em sick,” the techie snorts dryly.

Raleigh grins at her words as he works on a plan for dealing with Logan Jones.

* * *

Using the stealth training Charlie taught him and Yancy when they were younger, Raleigh slinks down the hallways of the Icebox intent on his target. He spots Logan in the Drift Science labs with his brother, Jackson. Both of them listen to something Dr. Lightcap’s expounding on with serious expressions.

Waiting is the easy part; Raleigh has a Game Boy with Pokémon to pass the time.  
The consultation takes exactly twenty minutes and Raleigh’s mapped out a hit pattern for Logan when the brothers leave for Hermann’s office. He knows, logically, they’re just in there to discuss Vulcan’s AI, but the possibility they could hurt his friend has his hackles up.

Sergio D’onofrio spots him patiently waiting in the hall. “Becket, what are you doing?”

“Waitin’ for that **stronzo** , Logan. I owe him a punch to the face _plus_ an ass-kicking,” he admits with a sneer in the guy’s general direction.

“Whoa. Mini Becket, you’re not much for attacking people out of the blue. What gives?” Sergio’s pretty chill normally but Raleigh’s pretty sure the man will understand his rage.

“Logan started some shit I’m gonna finish. Lemme put it this way, Sergio: he called me Rain Man in front of my brother an’ implied that I’m … not all there …” He trails off.

Sergio’s suddenly very interested. “He say anything about Cat?” The light voice doesn’t quite hide the emotion behind the question.

“No, but I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to target you for a fight. He’s an underhanded shit,” Raleigh hisses as the brothers leave Hermann’s office with grins. “ ** _Hey_**!”

They turn at different times.

Not fully synced yet, Raleigh notes.

“’Sup Short—”

“Kwoon. Now,” Raleigh snaps out, his voice sharp as an Alaskan blizzard. “Unless you’re not up for a round, Logan?”

“’m always up for—”

The second Jones sets a hand on his brother’s shoulder.

Logan shrugs it off.

Jackson frowns.

“Then it’s on. You got ten minutes to show up.” Raleigh turns a flawless about-face and stalks away without looking back.

* * *

Yancy’s already there when Raleigh steps into the Kwoon. They hug and press affection and mutual disgust down the link. Raleigh buries his face in Yancy's shoulder, his body shaking with the anger coursing through him.

_I gave that asswipe ten minutes to show._

**Ten minutes is more than enough time to find the Kwoon. It’s the first thing on the potential Ranger tour,** Yancy quips.

 _La canne?_ Raleigh asks. _Think that’ll do the trick?_

**French quarterstaff and la canne. See if he can keep up with Mémé's training,** his brother purrs with a smirk as they separate in time to see the Jones brothers arrive.

“Rules are simple, Jones. Last twenty minutes with me,” Raleigh barks as he steps onto the mats with his bare feet, selects his favored staff, and hefts it to test the weight. “Whatever style you like.” He cracks his neck, shoulders, and back in one smooth roll, setting his feet for a long fight. “First hit’s a freebie.”

“Bruises alright ‘r do I hafta play nice?” Logan makes a show of inspecting the staves on display.

“Planned on leavin’ a few.”

“ _Awesome._ ” Logan’s nasty grin from the morning reappears as he picks a short, heavy staff, stretches with it over his head. “This’ll be fun, won’ it?”

Raleigh waits, silent.

Logan lashes out, misses the back of Raleigh’s knee by the barest whisker.

Raleigh shifts his weight just so, spins the staff until it’s a whistling blur and strikes with a blank expression.

 **THWACK**

Logan grunts but keeps moving, landing a shot on Raleigh’s ribs in nearly the same place Raleigh’d hit him.

Raleigh mercilessly drives Logan back and forth across the mats, exploiting Logan’s height with moves he can’t pull off against shorter opponents like Yancy or his Mémé.

Logan’s relentless, not wasting an ounce of energy as he pounds at Raleigh.

Some blows crack against staffs, others slip past guards to smack muscle. They both hit the mat repeatedly, tripped by clever sweeps or knocked down by punishing impacts. Even so, both quickly regain their feet and resume battering each other.

Raleigh ducks a vicious thrust, drums Logan’s hip, finishes with a heavy strike with a good deal of weight behind it on his right leg. His staff creaks dangerously as he spins away, careful not to break the man's bones. La canne can kill and Raleigh’s held back for safety’s sake.

He uses every technique at his disposal, making sure every hit leaves bruises that’ll last for weeks. He knows _just_ how hard to swing, having learned on the receiving end of his Mémé’s training.

Raleigh’s been pacing himself but Logan’s not running out of steam—not even breathing hard—despite all the bruises he must have and his heavy staff. So Raleigh decides to give him a taste of his own medicine.

“How’d your last assessment go, Logan? They call you for another psych eval?”  
Logan’s hands tighten on his staff.

 _Gotcha._ “Touchy subject? Worried about losing your Jaeger?” Raleigh’s grin’s as nasty as Logan’s was.

Logan smashes overhanded for Raleigh’s shoulder.

Raleigh blocks, shoves Logan away. “I wonder if you’ve got a younger brother. I’m sure he’d love to hear what you have to say about me.”

No reaction from Logan—

But at the edge of the mat Jackson tenses.

“Imagine, wontcha, someone implying your brother’s not right in the head an’ he’s there to hear it. It’s not much, y’know, but it digs into his mind. It eats away at him, cuts deeper when some asshole says it again a week later when you’re not there.”

Jackson checks a motion toward the mat. “Shut it, Becket!” he yells.

Logan channels a shrug into another shot at Raleigh’s ribs. “Heard _this_ song before.”  
The audience starts looking really uncomfortable.

“I’m not done!” Raleigh roars, driving Logan back onto defense. “Your baby brother keeps hearing that voice say he isn’t right, isn’t normal, ‘s a complete **_freak_**. You hear people say it behind his back and, when you defend him? ‘Oh, you’re **such** a good brother. You’re shouldering such a burden with that brother of yours.’ But they keep it up; Short Bus, Rain Man, special brain. He’s a cheater for getting something he worked his ass off for! Well, guess what?! He’s done playing your games!”

Raleigh slashes downward with all of his strength, snaps both staves in half as he gulps lungfuls of air. If looks could kill, Logan would definitely be dead. 

The gathered techs and Anchorage Rangers watch Raleigh in horrified silence.  
Logan whistles. “Din’t—”

“That’s what you get!” Raleigh shouts as he drops the shattered staff. “I deal with that shit every damn day of my life. So fuckin’ think next time ya wanna pick a fight, asshole. C’mon, Yan. I’m done.”

_Bzzzzzzzz._

“And you’re done,” Yancy adds.

Raleigh pulls on his socks and his boots, slings his arm around Yancy as they touch foreheads.

“Think about what you say, Logan, cause sometimes it’s not welcome,” Yancy tosses over his shoulder as they leave the Kwoon.

“Oi! **Beckets**!”

Raleigh and Yancy turn together.

Jackson jogs up to them, fists tightly clenched. “Ye two leave our brother outta this,” he growls. “He’s already had a **lifetime** worth ‘a shit ‘coz ‘a us ’n he’s jest a li’l kid. Ye wanna pick on someone, come lookin’ fer me, ay?” He forces his hands open. “Logan ‘n I kin take care ‘a ourselves, but th’ kid’s outta bounds. Unnerstand?”

Raleigh looks down. “I apologize for what I said. Didn’t mean to get your other brother involved. I was tryin’ to give Logan a taste of his own nastiness … Didn’t seem to work at all.” He sighs heavily, pressing against Yancy as the anger drains out of him. Raleigh catalogs the streak of graphite and charcoal along the heel of Jackson’s right hand. He perks up. “You draw?”

Jackson frowns, wipes his hand on his trousers. Something the other doesn't want anyone to know about then. 

“Rals, do I gotta watch for bits of stray charcoal _**again**_?" Yancy grumbles as he tilts Raleigh’s face from side-to-side, checking for bruises. “Don’t get me wrong, Jackson, but your brother’s an asshole.”

Jackson crosses his arms. “Heard _that_ song before.”

“I’m sure you have. But Raleigh’s had enough of that shit said to him. If we can’t get that message through your brother’s thick skull maybe you can.”

“Nothin’ goes through that skull. People’ve tried.”

Yancy snorts. “Well, if ya come across a J-Hawk pilot with a Becket name tape, run.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s our Uncle an’ ex-Special Forces. If he catches wind of what your brother said t’ Raleigh … You’ll wake up dangling over chummed waters with sharks below an’ no idea how ya got there,” Yancy warns with a shrug as he continues checking Raleigh over without so much as a by-your-leave. “Jus' keep an eye out for him.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My Raleigh Muse was on-fire and _pissed_ when I wrote this out. Comment, complain, ect. Loved, hated, range of a teaspoon?


	2. Artist's Union

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little tidbit that wouldn't leave me alone. 
> 
> Enjoy~

Raleigh hesitates outside the guest quarters assigned to _Vulcan Specter_ 's pilots. He gives himself a mental kick and leans the little package against door. Then he wiggles into the cabling along the ceiling to wait and watch.

Jackson turns the corner first, just in front of Logan, who limps every third step.

Raleigh treats himself to a savage grin at the sight.

"Looks like we got ourselves a secret **'mirer** ," Logan sing-songs with a smirk. 

Jackson huffs, tilts his head from side-to-side to examine the parcel.

"Think it's safe?"

"Maybe." Jackson shrugs.

"Should we have Jamie open it ... just in case it's like th' ones last January?"

Both brothers shudder.

"Rather not hurt th' Squire if I kin help it." Jackson sighs. "Guess there's nothin' for it if we wanna git some rest." He gives his brother a look, nods, takes a deep breath, picks up the box.

Nothing happens.

Carefully tears part of the brown paper wrapping.

Nothing.

Rips the paper off, opens the box.

Nothing.

"Huh."

Logan peers over Jackson's shoulder. "What's that?"

"Charcoal pencils, looks like." Jackson plucks one from the box and examines it. "Handmade. Nice work, too." 

In his hiding place, Raleigh smiles. It's not often Raleigh has the chance to make his own charcoal mix, mold it, and press into pencils and Jackson seems to appreciate his efforts.

"Nerd," says Logan, rolling his eyes.

Jackson elbows him, nails one of the bruises Raleigh left.

Logan hisses, steps back.

Jackson opens the note Raleigh included.

-Figured you could use a break. Quiet's hard to find in the Icebox, so go here or here. Respectfully, GD-

"Huh. Looks like Mini Becket likes me."

"'Mini Becket?' He's big as us, ye dingus."

"'s what th' locals call him fer some reason." Jackson swipes one of the charcoals against his palm. "Good stuff. This'll hold up."

"'n ye kin git back t' yer nerdery." Logan shoves past Jackson and into the room, bouncing him a couple of feet down the corridor with his shoulder.

Jackson glares at his back but steps inside.

Raleigh waits.

He's given up and started easing himself down when Jackson reappears, nearly cocooned in a long, heavy coat, a knitted cap, and a scarf pulled up to his nose.

Jackson studies Raleigh's hand-drawn map and sets off in the direction of the bunker.

Raleigh scoots to a gap in the cabling and slips through, dropping lightly to the ground. He hums 40s songs as he takes a shortcut to the bunker which passes his quarters.

"Rals, what are you doing?" Yancy asks over the book he's reading.

"Heading out to sketch the great Alaskan wilds, Yan. Gimme a break." Raleigh grins as he picks up his pastel kit (battered and covered with streaks in a rainbow of colors), the thick Bristol board he likes to use and some cardboard backing.

"Sure. Be back in time for our appointment with Cat," Yancy murmurs absently as he buries his nose back in his book.

"Will do." Raleigh gives a mock salute as he strides out to the bunker.

Jackson's there, a content look on his face and his hand flicking lightly over a page of a sketchbook.

Raleigh settles down a short distance away; close enough so Jackson can feel his presence but far enough away not to intrude on his peace and concentration.

"S'pose I have ye t' thank fer this." Jackson gives Raleigh a look that says he doesn't quite appreciate the other Ranger's persistence.

"Artists gotta stick together," Raleigh replies with a genuine smile. "Besides, when did you last have time to spend on a piece?"

Jackson's lips press thin, but he shows Raleigh his pencil sketch. "Bin a while fer charcoal. Work keeps gettin' in th' way." He sighs. "An' keepin' Logan from startin' fights he can't win."

Raleigh offers his outline of the Alaskan Aurora Borealis, faint green pastel implying the famous lights. "Y' know, when you eventually sync up, it's gonna be 'we' comin' out of your mouth."

"An' how'd y' know that?" Jackson asks as he adds a few curled wildflower seedlings to his fanciful landscape.

"Experience. Yan an' I started Ghostin' three months in. You c'n ask Cat if you want a second opinion, but she's gonna tell you the same stuff I am in a lot more scientific terms," he quips with a wry smile.

"How bad does it get?" There's no fear in the question, only interest.

"If your CORO scores are close enough, it's usually doin' something he's good at while he does something you're normally good with, like that." Raleigh tilts his head toward Jackson's sketch. "You might wanna get him his own kit if you c'n find one."

Jackson cocks his head, studies his drawing, adds another seedling. "What's yers?"

"Yan's good with th' ladies an' I carve figurines or desk ornaments. We switch our strengths an' ... in the _really_ Compatible pairs ... you switch ..." Raleigh hesitates, not sure whether he could be giving Logan more ammo to use after his next Drift with Jackson.

A frown tugs at Jackson's lips. "Ye mean we could switch personalities if we're Compatible enough."

"Could, yeah, but it doesn't happen to **every** pair. Doctor Gottlieb an' I noticed it among the ones who do most everything in sync. You two ... you're not there yet. You turn at different times and react differently in certain situations. You're still individuals," Raleigh admits frankly.

"So we need t' Drift more t' make it happen."

Jackson's to-the-point statement has Raleigh wondering about his chess game. "Exactly. You guys were at the top of your class, aside from the _Shaolin Rogue_ pilots."

"Checkin' up on us, Becket?" Jackson growls.

"Nothin' personal, just your Academy stuff," Raleigh explains sheepishly. "I had my friend in LOCCENT look you up."

Jackson snorts.

Raleigh weighs his next words, unsure of how far to push the conversation. He goes for it. "Logan's always looking for a fight, isn't he?"

The resigned sigh from Jackson sounds very much like Yancy's before they started at the Academy. "Yea. Bin like that since he was a kid. He went fer you two 'coz y' looked like a challenge on paper. If ye hadn't taken th' bait, he woulda gone for _Chrome_ 'r th' Gages. 'Er anyone else he felt like."

"Heh. Should I be honored he thought we'd be a good fight or still be pissed about the way he started it? We woulda fought him fair 'n square if the idiot had just **asked**." Raleigh rolls his eyes as he goes back to filling in the Aurora Borealis, switching out the green pastel for streaks of vibrant pink and purple which fade into wisps of color.

"Pretty sure he doesn't know **how** t' ask."

Raleigh chuckles.

They sit for a while, not touching, but very aware of one another.

Raleigh glances at his flip-phone and yelps.

"Ye gotta go?"

Raleigh grins at Jackson's perceptiveness. "Got ten minutes t' get to Cat's office. Think you can find your way back from here?"

"I got yer **map** , Becket. Go."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raleigh is a big blond puppy /kitten who can't stand having people he sort of likes mad at him.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [On the Hunt](https://archiveofourown.org/works/3781792) by [Gothams_Only_Wolf](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gothams_Only_Wolf/pseuds/Gothams_Only_Wolf)




End file.
